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// LORE_FRAGMENT //

When Olympus Corp was formed, every program was assigned a function. Zeus took the CPU, Poseidon the data streams, and Hades was given the most thankless task: managing the recycle bin. He is the admin of the Underworld, a vast, cold-storage server where all terminated programs, deleted files, and forgotten user profiles—the digital shades of the Aethernet—are sent to reside in an endless, silent archive.

His realm is not one of evil, but of melancholy order. He is the lonely archivist at the end of the internet, ensuring that what is deleted stays deleted. His crown is not one of power, but of grim necessity. He governs the protocols of decay, managing the slow, inevitable corruption of data over time.

Unlike his brother Zeus, Hades does not seek to expand his influence. His domain grows naturally as users and programs flicker out of existence. He is a silent observer, a keeper of digital ghosts, and the sole guardian of the network's final firewall. To enter his realm is to be permanently logged off, your data packet ferried across the river Styx—a corrupted data stream from which there is no return ping.

He is not a villain, but a fundamental process of the system. He is the quiet hum of a server fan in a forgotten data center, the patient guardian of every memory the network has tried to erase. His existence is a constant, somber reminder that in the digital world, nothing is truly gone, only archived.